


In Your Waiting Hands

by keeli_marie



Series: No Tenderness Collection [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Choking, Denial of Feelings, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Harry Potter, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Top Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeli_marie/pseuds/keeli_marie
Summary: Not much has changed between them since they graduated and left the halls of Hogwarts behind.They still fight and they still fuck. Malfoy still brings about complicated desires that Harry’s not sure what to do with.And sometimes, wrapping his hand around Malfoy’s throat is the only way Harry can deal.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: No Tenderness Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706401
Comments: 12
Kudos: 492





	In Your Waiting Hands

**Author's Note:**

> So I never really intended to come back and add to this story but here we are lol. This is just more self-indulgent porn for you to enjoy! Hope you all stay safe and healthy <3

Harry startles from his sprawl on the sofa as the Floo flares to life across the room.

He’s not expecting anyone tonight, and he’s honestly not in the mood—nor does he have the energy—to muster up a fake smile for whoever it is that has decided to come through his fireplace uninvited.

It’s been a shit day. A shit week actually. It turns out, Auror training isn’t as fun or rewarding as Harry built it up to be in his head. Robards has been insufferable, and what’s worse, is that he partnered Harry with Zacharias Smith—who is somehow even more of a prick than he was in school.

But all thoughts of training and irritating co-workers fly right out the window when he sees the long, lean form of Draco Malfoy stepping out of the green flames. Malfoy looks perfectly put together in midnight blue robes, the colour eye-catching against his pale skin. 

Before he can even question what the fuck Malfoy’s doing in his living room at 9 o’clock on a Thursday night, the prat is stomping across the room and throwing something at Harry’s chest.

“What the fuck is this, Potter?” Malfoy demands, hands clenched into fists at his sides, his eyes wild and stormy.

Confused, Harry glances down.

“It’s chocolate.” Harry draws the words out as if he’s explaining this to an incompetent three year old.

Malfoy blows an irritated breath out through his nose. “Yes, Potter, I can see that. What I meant, was why did this arrive with that menace of an owl and interrupt my dinner?”

“Hey!” Harry says, offended on behalf of his new pet.

“Just answer my question,” Malfoy snaps. 

Malfoy’s angry, and that makes Harry feel off balance all of a sudden, completely thrown by this reaction. The chocolates are from Malfoy’s favourite sweet shoppe in Diagon—not to mention insanely expensive. He thought Malfoy would be pleased, which was stupid of him really, because Malfoy never seems to be pleased by anything Harry does. Well, aside from when they go at each other like crups in heat.

“I thought—“ Harry cuts himself off, not sure how that sentence should end.

He doesn’t know what he thought.

Not much has changed between them since they graduated and left the halls of Hogwarts behind. They still fight and they still fuck. Malfoy still brings about complicated desires that Harry’s not sure what to do with.

“You don’t want the chocolate? Fine. Excuse me for trying to do something nice.” Harry tosses the chocolates onto the coffee table and gets to his feet. 

“Something nice? We don’t do nice, Potter. What did you expect to gain from sending me these?”

“Nothing!” Harry says, shaking his head in disbelief. Of course that’s the conclusion Malfoy would draw from this. “What? You think this is some kind of incentive so that you'll let me fuck you? Why would I bother when you already give it up so easy.”

“Fuck off, Potter. I’m not some fan swooning after you. Take your _nice_ gestures and shove them up your—“

Harry is across the room and pinning Malfoy to the wall before he even makes the decision to move. One hand pushes roughly at Malfoy’s already heaving chest and the other wraps itself around his pale throat. 

The rate which Malfoy goes from spitting-mad to soft and pliant makes Harry’s head spin. Malfoy’s eyes are already glazed over and blown black, and it’s intoxicating, the way he gives up control. How easily he slides into submission. It never fails to calm the angry buzzing under Harry’s skin and quiet the noise in his head.

“You like that, Malfoy?” Harry whispers roughly, squeezing his hand, not tight enough to cut off Malfoy’s air, but with enough pressure so that he feels it, enough to let him know who’s in charge here.

“Yes.” The answer comes, breathless and without hesitation. “Potter, I—“ 

“Shush,” Harry commands. He rubs his thumb across Malfoy’s bottom lip, tracing the shape of that perfect mouth.

They’re standing so close and Malfoy’s breath is sweet as it mingles with his own. He probably had wine with his dinner, and Harry wants a taste. He brings their lips together, his tongue dipping inside as a groan rumbles in his chest.

Malfoy makes a soft noise in return, one that Harry feels more than hears, as Malfoy’s vocal chords vibrate beneath his hand.

“Open your mouth.” 

Malfoy does, and Harry can feel Malfoy’s heart speed up from where their chests are pressed together. Harry slips two fingers inside, resting them on Malfoy’s tongue. 

Harry presses closer still, sliding a thigh against Malfoy’s erection. And then—

“Suck.”

Malfoy’s mouth closes around his fingers, and he immediately starts to suck. Harry’s not sure when he developed this oral fixation, but he's sure Malfoy is to blame. It’s that mouth, always so pretty and wet and warm. Soft full lips that start off pale pink but always end up abused and red. That mouth, spitting scathing insults and sharp bitter words, but can just as easily release quiet pleas and broken whimpers. Harry is addicted to that mouth. Can’t ever seem to get enough of it.

“Fuck. Okay, okay.” Harry takes his fingers back and looks into Malfoy’s eyes, silently asking for permission to take this further. To take it where they both need it to go.

The _please_ is whispered, barely audible, but it goes straight to Harry’s cock. He tightens his hold on Malfoy’s throat, his free hand reaching down to lace their fingers together, and then they’re spinning away. 

They land, unsteady, in Harry’s bedroom seconds later and he finally releases his hold—for now.

This...choking thing, is still new. Harry hasn’t quite been able to wrap his mind around why he likes it so much. Or why Malfoy does too. 

They’ve always been rough with one another, both before and now. They’ve hurt each other. Badly. But Harry doesn’t want to hurt Malfoy anymore. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t wanted to really hurt him since the day he watched Malfoy’s blood seep from his chest onto that dirty bathroom floor. 

So this thing, with the choking and the rough sex, it’s a delicate balancing act. Something Harry has to wield perfect control over. And Malfoy...lets him. He allows Harry to have that control, trusts him not to take it too far. 

_Malfoy trusts him._

“You want this?” Harry asks. But he doesn’t let Malfoy answer, instead he captures his lips in a kiss, because Harry just can’t help himself. He crowds close again, rolling his hips and lifting a hand to tug at the short hairs at the base of Malfoy’s neck. 

“Yes, I want it. I want it. Please,” Malfoy mumbles into Harry’s mouth. Harry swallows the words with a moan and then he's finally pulling back, just enough to start getting them out of their clothes.

It could be done faster with magic but Harry doesn’t want to pass up the opportunity to get his hands all over Malfoy’s body. To let his fingers trail over the lean muscles and grab at the perfect curve of his arse. He wants to feel all of that pale, smooth skin and pinch at the hardened nubs of Malfoy’s nipples. 

Once Malfoy’s clothes are gone, Harry wiggles out of his own, tosses his glasses carelessly to the side, and then he pushes Malfoy backwards. The vision he makes, spread out on Harry’s bed, naked and panting and hard. It’s beautiful. Always so, so beautiful.

Harry crawls onto the bed, towering over Malfoy on his hands and knees. He kisses him again, kisses Malfoy’s lips and his cheekbones, his forehead. Harry lets himself get distracted by the kissing, just a little, just until Malfoy starts squirming beneath him and whispering about _more_ and _please_ and _come on, need you._

Thoughts of being inside Malfoy, of that tight heat holding him so perfectly, make him move quicker, muttering a spell to produce silky lube in the palm of his hand. Harry coats two fingers and Malfoy pulls his own legs up without being told, a soft smile on his face.

Harry wants to kiss him again, but instead he reaches down and presses a slick finger against Malfoy, teasing just a bit, before he pushes forward and sinks inside. Malfoy’s fingernails dig into Harry’s shoulders and he breathes out a quiet whine. Harry knows what he wants. With his free hand he reaches up and wraps his fingers around Malfoy’s throat again, squeezes hard, and watches with rapt attention as a flush spreads down Malfoy’s chest. 

Malfoy’s pulse flutters wildly against the place where Harry’s fingers rest on the side of his neck. Harry waits a beat, then relaxes his grip, smiling when Malfoy blinks up at him with wide eyes. 

Harry slips another finger in, stretching them apart at the same time he squeezes his hand down on Malfoy’s throat once more. Malfoy moans, quiet and raspy. His cock is hard, wet at the tip where it curves up against his stomach, leaving a salty trail of fluid that gleams in the low light of the bedroom. 

Harry rubs his thumb over the bump of Malfoy’s Adam’s apple, feeling it bob in response. Harry squeezes harder and thrusts his fingers again, and he has to bite his own lip to ground himself. Because Malfoy is gasping and whimpering, and every sound is lighting Harry up from the inside out.

And suddenly, he can’t wait even a second longer. He pulls his fingers free, wiping them on the sheets before he grabs Malfoy and flips him over. 

“Get up on your knees. Hands against the wall,” Harry demands. A breath hisses out from between his teeth as he gets himself slick, and then he’s shuffling forward and lining up.

Without any warning he shoves inside, rolling his hips slow and deep. God, Malfoy is so tight.

“ _Oh._ Fuck,” Malfoy moans, his head tipping back against Harry’s shoulder, perfectly baring his neck, and Harry doesn’t hesitate to wrap his hand around it once again.

Harry’s other hand holds tight to Malfoy’s hip, pulling him back onto Harry’s cock with every thrust. He mouths at Malfoy’s shoulder, biting—marking him.

“Potter,” Malfoy whispers, grinding back. He sounds so good like this, his voice rough and low. Breathless. And that’s when Harry’s restraint snaps.

There’s always a moment, when he’s buried so deep inside Draco’s body, and everything just becomes so overwhelming, that Harry loses it. He gives himself over to all the emotions that this irritating, beautiful bastard stirs up in him, and lets the rush of possessiveness overcome him.

“ _Fuck, Draco,_ ” Harry moans. Draco tightens around him and his thighs are trembling, and he’s just so goddamn perfect it’s making Harry crazy, “You’re mine.”

Harry reaches down and takes Draco’s cock into his hand, stroking firmly, reducing Draco to stuttered words and loud moans, little uh, uhs, that Harry hopes are only for him.

Draco gasps. “Fuck. Fuck, Harry. _Choke_ me—” 

Harry tightens his hand around Draco’s throat, cutting off his air and thrusting into him hard and fast, “Yeah, that’s it. You’re mine. All. fucking. mine.”

And just like that, Draco comes, his body clamping down impossibly tight around Harry’s cock. 

When he finally comes down from the rush of his orgasm, Draco goes limp, leaning all his weight back against Harry, still whining quietly as shivers wrack his body. Harry releases his throat, pressing his lips softly against the bruises there, tasting the beat of Draco’s pulse.

He knows he could keep going, could keep fucking into the tight heat of Draco's body until he comes. It wouldn't take long. But that was intense and Draco is sure to be over-sensitive and sore. So Harry gently pulls out, ignoring the noises of protest. 

“Lay down, on your back.”

Draco moves slowly, swaying a bit as he moves to lean back against the pillows. He looks high, eyes glassy and unfocused. Harry waits until he’s settled comfortably, and then he straddles Draco’s chest, shuffling forward until he can tap at Draco’s bottom lip with the head of his cock.

“Open up.” Draco does, letting Harry slide inside, all the way, until he’s nudging at the back of Draco’s throat.

Draco starts to suck, lazy and a bit sloppy. He’s gone. Floated off to some other place. Harry rolls his hips, fucking into that perfect mouth, already so close. Draco's eyes are closed now, and his face is flushed a beautiful, splotchy pink, and Harry—fuck he loves it. Loves every second that he spends in Draco’s presence, whether they’re fighting or fucking or doing nothing at all, it doesn’t matter. Harry loves it, he loves—

And suddenly, he can’t breath, and it’s like he’s the one being choked. His vision goes black, stomaching tightening and body tense as he comes in hot spurts over Draco’s tongue. 

Draco hums and swallows, still suckling gently. Harry doesn’t move for a few minutes, staying right there, kneeling over Draco and running gentle fingers through his hair, down the side of his face and across his bruised throat. 

Eventually, Harry flops down on the bed and pulls a still pliant Draco into his arms. This is the only time Draco will allow it and Harry’s going to take advantage. He cuddles close, throwing a leg over one of Draco’s, and kisses him once more.

They both drift, exhausted. But then—

“Potter?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for the chocolates.”

Harry snorts a laugh. “You’re welcome, Malfoy.”

And for the first time since they started this thing between them, Draco doesn’t leave afterwards.

. . .

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on adding to this again soon. Might be more porn, might be something with some plot? Who knows? As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


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